#springtrap x reader

One of the more recent developments of The Entity’s interest is randomizing outfits in trials. Clothing wasn’t much of a problem in the realm before, but it seemed the entity has decided to play a big prank on everyone. Survivors, of course, taking the brunt of this prank: being forced to wear the most embarrassing combinations while simultaneously trying to stay alive. 

You’d remained unscathed until today. When spawning into the map, the first thing you noticed was the sudden rush of cold air on your body. You look down to see yourself dolled up against your will: tight black strapless dress, white cuffs and collar with a bowtie completely separate from the dress, dark stockings, and HEELS?! This was a cruel joke. How the hell are you going to run from the killer in heels?

There’s not much that can be done about this now though. You rush to a nearby generator, crouching next to Ace. 

You can feel Ace’s shocked stare. He whistles jokingly, “And I thought my clothes were bad.”

“You still don’t have much room to talk here.” you roll your eyes. 

Ace was in a matching cheetah print speedo and button up shirt combo. He had a tendency to not have pants on, so it was nothing new for him. 

Ace proudly puffed out his chest. “Before you start hating, ask yourself: Ain’t I clean tho?” he grins like an idiot. 

You can’t help but laugh at how stupid this all was. But happiness in this realm only lasts in small glimmers. The familiar hiss of The Animatronic’s doors echo from somewhere close by. You feel your blood run cold realizing who you’d be going against in this stupid bunny outfit. Before you could pray to not cross paths during trial, you hear his clunky footsteps charging towards you two. 

Peeping over the generator, you make direct eye contact with Springtrap. Upon seeing you, he barrels over with intent. You skitter to get away kinda hoping Ace would take the hit but you look back to see Ace nowhere in sight. GREAT! 

His fire axe swoops past you. “Cute bunny ears, Playboy. Trying to copy my look now, are we?” 

“In your dreams pervert!” You yell back. Struggling to run away, you give up on the heels completely. 

As you shimmy your shoes off, you continue to yell at Springtrap while throwing the shoes at him, “You know I had no choice in this!!” 

With your focus on landing your shoe projectiles, you completely lose your footing and stumble down to your knees. “GODDAMNIT-”

Rrrriiiipppppp! The stockings tear, causing runs to cascade up the thighs of the stockings. You scramble to your feet in desperation to recover from your tumble. In the distance, you could see the obligatory map shack. Perfect! You could kill time by looping around the shack. You bolt forward with your newfound rush of adrenaline. ‘Just get to the window ahead,’ you reason with yourself. You can hear Springtrap’s failed slash attempt hit the window sill while jumping through the shack window. Your lower side suddenly feels a lot breezier. Oh god. Was your ass just on full display? Quickly, you tug the dress down. 

“Not a flashlight in sight but I’m still getting flashed!” 

You refuse to look back, overcome with anger, shame, and embarrassment all at once you. You loop around the building, still trying to shake him off your tail. All the while, you keep having to shimmy with the dress. The damned thing couldn’t stop riding up but you couldn’t pull it too far down because then it would slip too far down your chest. And you couldn’t pull it up or else you’d flash Springtrap your ass again! 

Thoughts run as you loop the building. Why did it have to be a bunny outfit? And WHY did the killer HAVE TO BE SPRINGTRAP?!?!? Yes, you had a crush on that ego-maniac furry freak, but that was a fun backburner crush that you planned to NEVER ACT ON!!! 

To your dismay, Springtrap finally catches up to you inside the shack. He grabs you harshly by the shoulders and slams you into the wall. The whole room is spinning. Springtrap’s pizza knife jams into the wall, too close to the right side of your neck. 

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Springtrap’s eyes glare down at you.

“I’M not doing anything! Not my fault you can’t control yourself, furfag!”

“Furfag: says the man in a bunny dress.” He laughs smugly.

You’re pissed you can’t even argue with him. You walked into that one… I mean truly, you couldn’t have made it any easier for him.

“Ahhh, where’s that sharp tongue of yours now?” 

Springtrap's hands start to wander. He grabs at your hips, hoisting you further up the wall. You hiss through your teeth as the knife in the wall cuts against your right trapezoid. Springtrap gives you no time to complain as he hikes the black dress up, exposing your– PURPLE LACE PANTIES??? Oh my god. This can’t get any worse. Now this looks even more deliberate. You could actually die of embarrassment right now. He’s staring at you hard. You can feel him glaring daggers into you but you refuse to meet his gaze. Desperately, you try to get springtrap away from you, pushing against his chest, swatting at his face, anything to squirm away. Springtrap’s chuckles at your struggle, not even phased by your attempts. Eventually, he gets bored of your fighting and pins your wrists against the wall. Again, your dress betrays you with the rapid movement, slipping down and exposing your chest. 

Springtrap’s jaw unhinges with a sickening pop. A rotted dark slimy tongue slithers out of his mouth. He licks at your chest, making you jump. The realm is already chilly, but his skin is deathly cold. As his tongue traces from your chest to your collarbone, he rocks himself against you. The crotchplate of the suit presses against you. It would’ve been nicer had the cheap lace not been scratching against your clit or the pressure of him pressing himself against you wasn’t pushing you into the knife’s blade. But against all odds… you kinda liked it. It felt amazing and terrible all at the same time. You let out a moan from the mix of pain and pleasure. 

Springtrap smiles against your neck, “Atta boyyyy” he drags out, the vibrations of his low voice rumbling against your skin.

Springtrap laps at the blood dribbling down from your cut, leaving a trail of lovebites. He releases the grip on your wrists– slowly sliding them down your arms to squeeze at your muscle then guiding them around his neck. You happily oblige this request, bringing him tighter against you. Your hands grip at his neck, digging your nails into his leathery skin.

Now that Springtrap’s hands are no longer occupied, they snake down your sides. The visual of his large hands almost wrapping all the way around your waist sends a jolt of pleasure through your core. His grip is unrelenting, kneading roughly at the fat around your thighs. 

“You don’t know what you do to me.” he breathes out into the crook of your neck. His tone of desperation sends chills down your spine. 

“I guess I really don’t… Why don't you give me a rundown.” You really have no place to be acting this smug knowing the position you’re in, but you can’t help but beckon him to keep stroking your ego. 

Springtrap slinks away from your neck. He stares at you intently with hungry eyes, “Acting like you don’t know what a fine piece of meat you are. Teasing me relentlessly. I tolerated your teasing before, but this is just plain cruel.”  

You bite your lip, fighting back from smiling like a total idiot. You didn’t think he liked you like that… I mean, sure, you figured you might be one of his favorite survivors. The two of you joked around a lot: Making fun of each other, battling to be the one with the last laugh. It became a ritual that you started seeing as a treat for all the hell you usually went through in the realm. Unlike the other killers, Springtrap made the trials fun. But him reciprocating your feelings to this extent came as a shock to you. 

He squeezes his fingers into your cheeks, forcing you to keep eyecontact, “I can’t take anymore of your teasing. I’m finally claiming what’s rightfully mine.” 

In the middle of a trial??? He’s depraved!! But you can’t find it in you to say no. You can’t remember the last time you got laid. And the concept of alone time didn’t exist much for survivors… You’ll probably only fit a quickie in, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“I’d like to see you try to still get it up, old man.” 

He HATES when you call him old– which is why you only save those jabs for when you reaaallly want to rile him up. And he was fuuuummmming.

Without skipping a beat, Springtrap’s hands dive down to your lower half. Grabbing the crotchpiece of your panties, he violently rips it to shreds. He wastes no time in forcing the waist of his suit off. The Springlocks tear at what’s left of his hips, making him groan at the pain. He slips his dick out. You can’t believe he even still has it to begin with. The entity provides in strange ways…

It kinda looks comically small compared to the massive suit surrounding it. But you soon eat your words when he jams into you. No prep at all, just all in. Your whole body tenses at his forcefulness. He’s deceptively big. Eventually, the pain of no preparation subsides, quickly being replaced with pleasure. His hips rock into you. The rough edges of his suit scrape against your thighs, undoubtedly leaving a million little cuts. You completely let yourself lose on trying to chase your high. Not having the privacy to have solo time has gotten to you more than you realized. You were sopping wet, making the plapping noises between you two utterly obscene. He was hitting all the right spots, making your legs quiver against his hips. 

“Say you’re mine.” He breathes heavily against your ear. 

Under any other circumstance you’d call him a freak or a loser but you’re completely lost in the sauce and you whimper out again and again that you’re his. Anything to keep him hammering into you like this. 

Your response quickly sends him over the edge as he cums inside you, still humping lazily even after finishing. You whine, pissed off he was stopping as you were nearing your high. Suddenly, your shoulder shoots full of pain. FUCK. OW. The knife slices further into your trapezoid as he yanks it out of the wall. You’d forgotten the thing was even cutting into you. 

Springtrap presses the knife into your sternum, “You think you deserve to finish?”

“YES, I had to run in heels, dickhead!”

He hums, giving you a judgemental look. He pumps a few more times into you, making your head roll back into the wall. You were so sensitive from the roughness that the 180 in pressure was intoxicating. The weird leathery texture of his skin just right against your clit. You grab against Springtrap’s big arms as you brace to finally cum. But instead, you’re interrupted as he stops humping. 

“Too bad teases don't get treats.” 

The jabs directly into your heart. Instantly killing you without much pain. It takes a minute for you to even recognize what happened until you hear screaming from behind you. You were on the outskirts of the trial walls, sitting in the itchy prairie field. 

You flip around, still on your hands and knees yelling, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” at the closed gate as if Springtrap can hear you. You couldn’t even finish yourself off if you wanted because if anyone were to die, your fellow survivors could ‘walk in’ on you. Speaking of which. Looking down, you could see Springtrap’s cum leaking down in massive amounts. Gross. You situate yourself, fixing the dress to actually cover your body. As quickly as you can, you slip the tatters of what was left of the lacey panties to clean the leakage and hide it behind a distant bush.

You stomp back to the gate, sitting at the edge of the wall. Your anger continues to boil inside you as you hear the faint echo of generators popping and survivors screaming. 

“The fucking nerve-”

Before you can start ranting to yourself, Ace drops into the outskirts. 

Ace reconfigures himself, realizing his company. “Someone got lucky.” he smiled.

“Ughhhh.” You bury your head in your hands, too ashamed to even look at him. What does it matter that your dress covered you up? Anyone could’ve walked in or just HEARD what you were doing in that trial. There’s no hiding from this.

“I’m normally not one to kink shame, but… that guy?”

You peek through your hand-mask of shame. Ace points at the gate with a confused look.

You sigh, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He sucks through his teeth, “In the middle of a trial too.” he further nags you about it. 

His tone is only slightly judgemental, mostly just taking the piss. It’s not completely unheard of to be… caught in the heat of the moment. You’re far from the first and this certainly wouldn’t be the last. But you certainly wouldn’t be hearing the end of this for a good while. 

You do your best to struggle with the lightheadedness that's coming on. Little grunts fall from you as you pry at his fingers. But he marches on. You can't see where he's taking you, just that the generator is getting further and further away. And then you hear a metal clink behind you.

Springtrap groans, throwing you down next to the now-useless hook. He throws a jab at Sable, but she scrambles away before he can get her. He groans and turns back, staring at you a long moment. You both know if he picks you now, you'll wiggle free. You both know he can slug you very effectively if he wants.

Everyone else on death hook, Sable injured..? This can snowball fast. Too fast. The thought spurs you into panic. Your brain fires off as you try to find a way to get out of this. Get at least some of you out of this. And perhaps, for that though, for the hope or distress that flutters in your heart, the entity blesses you.

“Wait!” Your voice cracks from not having used it for… years? decades? centuries? No one knows now. But The Rabbit stops and cocks his head. “I can.. I can do something… for you,” You offer shakily. He laughs, a loud, boisterous cackle that rings your ears.

“And what, pray tell, can a broken whelp like you give me?” He asks, his tone belittling. But, it's accurate. What can you give this… thing? You chew on your lip for a moment. You can only think of one thing, and you aren't sure it will work. Oh well, that's future you's problem.

Like a minute into the future you's problem, but that’s still a minute! A minute anyone could used to pop a gen so you at least can say you died at four gens.

“Let me up, please?” You ask.

“No.”

“I won't run,” You argue. “I really can make it worth it.”

He hums, and then shakes his head: “No,” He speaks firmly once more.

“Hooow about… you pick me up, I don't run, I make it worthwhile… anddd I sell out Steve?” You try once more. He grumbles. Steve had blinded him earlier…

The Rabbit reaches down and scoops you up by the neck again. You - as expected - break free, stunning him. The entity is so specific about her rules. He stomps his foot with a sharp yell. Another song and dance for the entity. All the same, he finds that you've made good on the first part of your promise.

You, like an idiot, have decided to get as close to the creature as possible. You're going to make it up to him, like you promised. By your team some time. You swallow thickly, and lower onto your knees. He's… so big. Taller than a person should be. Which, like, yeah. He's not just some dude, but still. And the smell. Ugh… Rotting meat and hot oil and… okay, no. You decide to stop thinking about it because you know it'd make you go back on your promise.

You're making it up to him, the only way you know how. You lean forward. You take a deep, careful breath - through your mouth - bracing yourself for what's to come. He looks down at you, confused. And you're honestly confused, too. You have no clue if what you plan to do will even work. Still, you lower closer to his crotch plate.

Will he stop looking at you like that?

The dead, curious, JUDGY stare those white eyes burn into you is making you even more nervous than you have to be. There's no way he doesn't know what you mean to do. Okay, it is a bit absurd and you're starting to regret it. But, come on! All men ever want is one thing.

And that one thing is head.

At least, all your pre-realm boyfriends did.

Your lips meet a tear in the crotch-plate. It makes a sickening squishing sound, liquid seeping onto your cheeks and lips - thick and tacky, not yet fully dried down. It tastes disgusting. Metallic and rotten. You can feel yourself developing… whatever you get from getting rot on your skin. Still, you push forward. You just need to hear that beautiful sound of a gen finishing in the distance. The thought pushes you into finally committing.

You stick your tongue through the hole in the plate. More of that awful taste assaults your senses, this time along with the rough texture of leather and firmness of frozen meat. The skin isn't warm… but it's not cold either. Rotted past the coldness of death, and into being merely room temperature. He doesn't react at first - well, he does, but it's confusion and not pleasure - and you start to panic.

Oh, you're all dying. Fuck. Awkward trip back to the camp fire for you.

But by the grace of… something - God? The entity? What ever process made him what he is? - and a little wiggling of your tongue, you find a spot that sends his head flying back. He lets out a soft groan.

You've done it! You're making good on your word!

You press forward, eagerly licking against the vile body now. You can hear your tongue clicking as you lap against the sensitive spot like a dog. There's nothing about it that makes it obviously special. No unique texture or taste. Everything down there feels the same. You only know where the “good spot” is when he groans out in pleasure. His eyes stay fixated on you as you tongue-fuck the crotch-plate.

“You are a—” He lets out a glitching stutter. “–Odd little pup,” but as he finishes the sentence, you prod another, more special spot. He lets out a loud moan, hips jolting forward. Sharp metal bites into your skin, something poking you just under the eye, but you don't care. You're making up for a hook state here. You're milking all the gen progress out of this as you can. You start attacking that spot.

Each time you poke it, he humps forward. Shallow, little presses against your mouth. Oddly…. well, not gentle, but lacking in the usual aggression he has with all of his movements. He's usually hyper-violent, every touch or step done with near performative ferociousness. You'd thought he'd fuck the same. But, perhaps it's that his dick appears to be gone. You think he had one at some point, but there's nothing signaling one now.

Your thoughts about how non-violently he's been treating you are silenced by his heavy, metal hand clamping around your skull. It's so large, it wraps around an unreasonable amount of your head - you know who you're drafting for realm basketball - and the metal of his fingers bite into the skin under them. You squirm a bit under his touch, stilling in your movement. Is he going to rip you off him?

Oh… well… yeah, okay, you didn't tell him the plan. It's fair to rip you off, you guess. Though your tongue sits in a very delicate position, still buried inside the suit with him. If he pulls you back, you might lose it. You hear all of his metal support structures click as he tilts his head back down to you. His glowing eyes glower down at you.

“Oh, now we're shy?” He asks, pressing his hand into the back of your head, and thus your face into his crotch. “Keep licking, whelp,” He grumbles. You move your tongue. He grunts and humps your face again.

You, doing your best against all the metal, lick him in a long, exaggerated stroke. This time it's more of a whine. An oddly delicious, pathetic whine from the man - rabbit? bunny? - that you've come to know.

You never had understood why he was a rabbit. You had exchanged bits and pieces about many killers with the others in the realm, and all you had gathered about him was he was the mascot of some kids diner and used to kill kids. Feng had told you it - this, being the rabbit - was somewhat intentional, but you don't… trust Feng. She gets kinda boasty sometimes. Inflammatory… likes to insult killers she beats. Doesn't always make her words true.

“There!” He demands when you poke a new spot, still humping you in those shallow desperate movements. “Yes, there!” Looking at him now, head tilted back, ears twitching… hips moving fast and short… you get it. You get why this man would want to be a giant rabbit.

He's got a rabbit personality.

He even stomps when mad! He's demanding, and bratty, and bolts when things aren't going his way, and really cute. You swear his nose should be twitching right now. And those ears are so.. touchable (Bunnies like when you touch them, you know)! They bounce and twitch.

And jerk as he humps you. His groans have increased in frequency. He's always been mouthy, but being the cause of it emphasizes how little he shuts up. The jaw of the animatronic falls open and limp, hanging off him in a way that looks dangerously close to falling off. You can see his internal jaw - which is so coming with the metal one if it does fall - but you cast your eyes away. You don't really want to see what you're currently licking. The thought triggers your reflexes, and you swallow down some of that disgusting, rotting meat taste. Oh, great. This campfire trip is getting more and more awkward.

The hottest groan-whimper you've ever heard falls out of his mouth. It isn't quite “high-pitched”, still in that filthy low baritone with the gruff quality. But it’s this sound of pure, unadulterated release. He doesn't care about anything. Not all the pressure he's lost, not going back to see anyone after this, not that you're standing completely out in the open to the left of main and who knows if Sable's left at all. No. Not a bit.

Well, he does care about one thing. Your tongue. The way it moves against his corroded skin, how that feels. What it's building to. You can tell in the way it absorbs him, in each grunt and little thrust. You've made him need you. You've made him weak and vulnerable, something he's made you more than once. You finally wield the power. God, it's addictive. Why did no other experience feel like this? What makes this… with this monster… so special?

Is it because it's a monster?

“Take it..” He growls under his breath, the words hard to make out due to being so broken up between moans, gasps, and grunts. “Tak..e it! Hah…” Despite the words being demanding, he says them with a tone of desperation. The want to be taken seriously. You taste the weakness on your tongue, and it's the greatest meal you've ever had. “Keep licking—” Another loud moan. —“Whe-lp,” He somehow managed to roll something in that word, his muscles flexing from toe to tongue under your attention. “I! I'm gonna…”

The cascade of milky white liquid seeping through the holes in the suit and into your mouth comes to the heavenly soundtrack of a gen popping. He clatters and twitches, but the sharp sounds of metal can't hide what you wanted to hear.

It feels heroic. A slow motion shot in an action film, just as the villain is defeated. And defeated he is.

His eyes have dulled behind his mask. He slumps back against the wall, letting it hold his weight. He looks empty like this, save for the white liquid pouring from each crack in his crotch-plate. His hand still grips at the back of your head, preventing you from pulling away fully.

Still, you slip your tongue out of his crotch-plate with a wet pop. Cum splatters onto the floor, some catching the fabric of your pants. It tastes surprisingly normal, despite it's off color. Looking at it, it seems to be too cool.. Not quite paper white, but something purpler than that…

As you analyze the substance, his hand moves from the back of your head. It sticks to your hair for a long, gross moment, no doubt pulling some hair out with him. He clears his throat.

“Now..” He starts. “Where is that little brat?”

So, bad news… your team seems to have only popped one gen while you were busy. How they possibly managed to fail that spectacularly, you do not know.

So, you run all around until you find Steve - maybe do some body blocking where possible - and finally fulfill your whole bargain. And then do three gens on your own. Yui manages to pop one somewhere in there, but you were too focused on the one in main at the time.

You hear Sable scream as she goes down, but your hands stubbornly grip the lever to open the gate. You aren't helping her. She did like, one thing all game, and it resulted in you tonguing all over rotten meat and then getting cum in your mouth. You didn't even get any reciprocat…. God damn it! Ugh… you should've pulled some card to get head back. Now that'd buy some time.

Yui comes behind you as you open the gate, seeming to agree. At least, that's how you're interpreting her strange facial expression. The language barrier means she can’t prove you wrong.

You exit the gate with Yui, Sable's scream echoing through you as you run back to the camp fire.

“Oh, hey, guys!” Ace grins as he stands. “Two-out? Nice,” He throws his arm over both you and Yui's shoulders. He rambles on for a beat before turning to look at you with the same expression Yui had.

“What?” You ask with a grumble. His face turns into more of a concerned frown. He takes his arm off of Yui - who walks rather pointedly away the second she's free - and gestures to his face with a finger.